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J A C OB 



A SEATONIAN POEM. 



BY TH^ 

Rev. THOMAS E. HANKINSON, MA. 

OF CORPUS CHRISTT COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. 






CAMBRIDGE: 

PRINTED AT THE PITT PRESS, BY AND FOR JOHN SMITH, 
PRIXTER TOOTHS VNirERSITY. 

JOHN W. PARKER, WEST STRAND, LONDON; 

DEIGHTONS; AND STEVENSON, CAMBRIDGE; 
AKD THE BOOKSELLERS AT LYXN. 

M.DCCC.XXXIV, 

Price One Shilling, 



JACOB. 



JACOB 



A SEATONIAN POEM. 



BY THE 

Rev. THOMAS E^HANKI 



NSON, M.A. 



OF CORPUS CIIRISTI COLLEGK, CAMBRIDGE. 




CAMBRIDGE : 

PRINTED AT THE PITT PRESS, BY AND FOR JOHN SMITH, 
PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY. 

JOHN W. PARKER, WEST STRAND, LONDON; 

DEIGHTONS; AND STEVENSON, CAMBRIDGE; 
AND THE BOOKSELLERS AT LYl^N. 

M.nccc.xxxiv. 



1^ '■'■'% 



lEntered at Slalioners Hall.'} 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



"■ The Rev. Thomas Seaton, IM.A. late Fellow of Clare Hall, bequeathed 
to the University (in 173U) the rents of his Kislingbury estate, now producing 
clear £40 per annum, to be given yearly to that Master of Arts who shall write 
the best English Poem on a sacred subject. The Vice- Chancellor, the Master 
of Clare Hall, and the Greek Professor (who are the disposers of this premium) 
determine the subject, which is delivered out in January, and the Poem is to 
be sent to the Vice-Chancellor on or before the 29th of September following. 
The Poem is to be printed, and the expense deducted out of the product of 
the estate : the remainder is given as a reward to the composer." 



Cambridge, October 25, 1834. 

The above premium was this year awarded to the Rev. Thomas 
E. Hankinson, M.A. of Corpus Christi College. 

Joshua King, Vice- Chancellor. 
William Webb, Master of Clare Hall. 
James Schole field, Greek Professor. 



JACOB. 



Jacob was a plain man." 

Gen. XXV. 27. 



I boast no song in magic wonder's rife : 

But yet, oh Nature ! is there nought to prize 
Familiar in thy bosom-scenes of life?" 

Campbell. 



A DAY of many changes ! — shower and sun, 
In dubious conflict, oft have lost and won ; — 
Now a long space of deep and settled gloom. 
Now bursts the day-king from his shadowy tomb. 
And the broad river and the cultured plain 
Laugh in the luxury of light again, 

A day of many changes L — but at length 
The spirits of the clouds have spent their strength 
Driven from the empire of the upper world, 
Their ranks are broken, and their banner furled ; 
And scarce the ear, in faint vibration, feels 
The distant roll of their retiring wheels. 

B 2 



JACOB. 



'Tis evening's solemn hour ! — the expectant West 
Awaits the advent of her glorious guest ; 
And fairy looms have broidered with vermilion 
The gorgeous drapery of his proud pavilion; 
He walks to rest triumphant, — from his hair 
Shedding down radiance through the amber air; 
As if resolved in lavish mood to pay 
To nature quittance for his long delay. 
Brief reign as beautiful ! — ^how quickly die 
The splendors of that airy pageantry ! 
E'en as we gaze, the brilliant tints of Even 
Are melted in the blank abyss of Heaven ; 
And though, in close battalia ranked on high. 
The countless armies of the night march by, 
Their sheen, so coldly, tremulously bright. 
Seems but the Ghost of Day's departed light. 



All day an aged man with wistful eye 
Had watched the aspect of that moody sky ; 
As if each change on memory's mirror cast 
Some imaged scene of joy or sorrow past : 
Dim was his sight, — but not too dim to know 
When the broad sunshine settled on his brow ; 
He smiled, as though some inward sense had felt 
The warmth and gladness in his spirit melt, — 
An inward consciousness of peace divine, 
Gilding the shadows of his day's decline : 



JACOB. y 

Yea even the very clouds, that long had striven 
To dim the lustre of that ray from heaven, 
Were taught to bear the ensigns of its power, 
And swell the triumph of its parting hour. 

And some who watch'd him deemed at times there stole 
A brilliant emanation of the soul, 
Shedding a pure effulgence, all its own, — 
A charm to Nature's kindliest smile unknown ; 
As if his aged brow and tresses white 
Emitted, rather than received, the light : 
But, when the Sun, fast sinking to his rest. 
Dipped his great disk behind the desert's breast, 
A moment, dazzled by the level ray. 
Those guardian friends had turned their glance away ; 
And, when they gazed again, they scarcely knew 
That face, so altered in its form and hue ; 
Where not one trace of feeling lingered yet, — 
The glory was eclipsed ! — The soul was set ! 
Set to a world o'ercast with sin and sorrow, 
To rise unclouded on a fairer morrow. 

^ The last of the three Patriarchs ! — none might claim, 
When he was not, that venerable name : 



1 In Joseph's dream (Gen. xxxvu. 9) the patriarch Jacob is represented by 
the sun, and his children by the stars. 



10 



JACOB. 



And though his numerous sons, a stalwart band„ 
Spread forth their tribes along the peopled land. 
None rose to emulate the parent-mind; — 
It left no fellow to its worth behind. 



There is a mystery in parting words — 
A spell that sways afFection^s deepest chords. 
And oft, when least expected, makes us start 
At that Eolian music of the heart. 



They were the offspring of his favorite child. 
Who oft had Age of half its cares beguiled; 
And, by their Grandsire's couch, his latest day, 
Watched life's last sands in brightness ebb away ; 
They caught his parting words ! — and, many a year^ 
Those tones will haunt remembering fancy's ear, — 
Checking youth's glee, like that long, plaintive wail. 
Which mingles with the night-bird's rapturous tale, 
And soothing manhood's breast of stormy gloom 
With a far music from beyond the tomb. 



" My children !" — thus he spake, — " Could aught detain 
My spirit, half enfranchised of its chain, 
Methinks, 'twould be the lingering love, whose sway 
Yields not to time, and triumphs o'er decay ; 



JACOB. 11 

The love, that yearns, oh yet a little while, 

To sun me in the brightness of your smile, 

A little while, to bid my heart rejoice 

At the wild notes of childhood's happy voice; 

And nurse Hope's golden dreams, from hour to hour 

Tending the promise of life's opening flower. 



*' Yet wherefore wish ? — Ah why should I retrace. 
With those I love, that wild and weary space ? 
Why should I wait to see the clouds arise. 
And blot the hopes of morning's rosy skies ; 
To see the cheek, where Mirth's young dimples play. 
Sink in the settled languor of decay ; 
And the glad eye, as yet unknown to tears. 
Lose all its brightness 'neath the blight of years ? 
I was like thee, my Ephraim, — This worn face, 
Where Time hath left so many a ruthless trace, 
Thou scarce would'st deem, perchance, that it had known 
As smooth and fair a beauty as thine own. 
I had a brother too, — mine eyes are dim. 
But oft, Manasseh, in thy strength of limb 
Well framed in Nature's sterner mould, to grace 
Each hardy venture of the fight or chace. 
Thy gallant bearing, and thy gladsome smile. 
Thy heart that knows not, and that fears not guile, 
Whose fond devotion, on the present cast. 
Neglects the future, and forgets the past. 



12 JACOB. 

E'en in thy voice, its accent and its phrase, 

I mark the comrade of my early days. — 

And the same fate is on thee — the decree. 

That gave the birthright heritage to me, 

Constrained my tongue, and swayed my hands to shed 

The first-born's blessing on his brother's head. 



" Alas ! my brother — as I lay alone 
On the hard pillow of the desert stone. 
Forced from my home, my happy home, to flee, 
How turned my soul in bitterest thought to thee ! 
Together born ! together rocked to rest ! 
And fed and pillowed by the same dear breast ! 
Together ! How that word, in after years. 
Unseals the heart-spring's unavailing tears ; 
I shed them then — how oft I since have shed 
For friends — the absent — the estranged — the dead — 
The partners of youth's joys, or childhood's mirth, 
All gone ! and I am left alone on Earth. 



" My brother ! — yes I wronged thee, and I date 
From that sad hour, the darkening of my fate; 
For all was bright till then, — and thence begin 
The shades of sorrow and the stains of sin. 
How much I suffered for thy sake is known 
To Him who knoM's the heart, — to Him alone : 



JACOB. 



13 



But He is gracious; — on that dreary night 
I saw His glory, and I blest the sight; 
My spirit saw Him ! — ' saw the steps that rise 
Up from this earth to yonder glowing skies, 



2 " And he dreamed, and behold, a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it 
reached to heaven ; and behold, the angels of God ascending and descending on 
it." Gen. xxviii. 12. The poetical liberty taken with the literality of this passage 
was suggested by the view of the Alps at sunrise from the Righi on the borders 
of the lake of Lucerne. The idea, transplanted into the poem, was originally 
embodied in the following lines written on the spot. 

Oh God ! upon the mountains, in the calm 

And beauty of the morning, where each sound 
Seems like the accents of an holy psalm 

Swept from the lyre of Nature, and the ground 

Offers its matin incense wide around, — 
Oh God', upon the mountains is there one, 

Whose heart receives not, like yon lake profound, 
The imaged beauty,— sends not back a tone 
With Nature's solemn voice in gentlest unison^ 

Thy mighty presence is around us,— felt. 

Not in its terrors, earthquake, storm and fire, 
But sights and sounds of harmony, that melt 

Into the spirit's depths, 'till each desire 

Rises to Thee, as yonder clouds aspire 
To the huge mountains' summits, from below 

Issuing in mist and dampness, — but as higher 
They climb the everlasting peaks of snow, 
To\iched with the hues of Heaven, and melting in its glow. 

And there ye stand, majestic Alps ! which never 

By foot of man were trod,— ye stand, and smile 
In calm derision at his weak endeavour 

To touch the confines of each sky-girt isle ; 

'Tis well ! albeit his chainless soul the while 
Can make your peaks her stepping-stones to climb 

Heights that look down upon your giant pile. 
Where she shall rest immortally sublime, 
When ve have crumbled down amid the wrecks of Time. 



14 JACOB. 

Moiintain on mountain, cliff on cliff sublime, 
Such as no mortal step hath dared to climb, 
Girdled with clouds and canopied with snows 
Far into peerless light the Eternal peaks arose ! 
And up and down, from dizzy height to height. 
Ethereal forms of beauty and of might 
Sped like embodied lightning; and, methought. 
Mine ear at times unearthly music caught. 
Sweet tones that spake of love — the voice of Him 
Who stood amidst His host of Seraphim, 
Listing the prayers they wafted from below. 
The plaint of anguish and the groan of woe. 



" My father's God ! I learned in happier days 
To seek thy blessing, and to sing thy praise; 
In boyhood's hours, upon my parent's knee, 
I trembling listened while they spake of thee ; 
But then I saw thyself, and every sense 
Was hushed to deep but fearless reverence; 
I could not fear, — a message from above 
Revealed thy name, and told me it was love; 
There were no words, but thoughts of peace divine. 
Breathed from thy spirit, and inhaled by mine : 
That hour I proved, 'mid sorrow, want and care, 
The power of faith, the prevalence of prayer ; 
And since that hour, whatever ills assailed, 
I often proved it, and it never failed ; 



JACOB. 



15 



Bear witness, Peniel,'^ how the livelong night, 

Locked in the arms of more than mortal might, 

I strove in strong endurance, — wearily, 

Hour after hour, that heavy night toiled by. 

And still he yielded not; — my nerveless limb 

Shrank to his touch; — but yet I clung to him, 

Till strength and breath had failed : — at length he spoke, 

— ' Unhand me, mortal, for the day hath broke,' — 

' Nay, Lord,' I feebly cried, ' We part not so. 

Except thou bless, I will not let thee go.' — 

Again he spake, — my heart the accents hailed, — 

« Rise ! — thou hast power with God, and hast prevailed.' 



'' That morn my brother met me, — with dismay 
I heard the tidings of his fierce array. 
Long years had passed, — enough, methought, of time 
To wipe away the memory of my crime ; 
But I was rich, — my flocks extended wide 
Whitened the banks of Jordan's rushing tide. 



3 "And Jacob was left alone; and there wrestled a man with him until the- 
breaking of the day. And when he saw that he prevailed not against him, he 
touched the hollow of his thigh ; and the hollow of Jacob's thigh was out of joint, 
as he wrestled with him. And he said, Let me go, for the day breaketh. And he 
said, I will not let thee go except thou bless me. And he said unto him, What is 
thy name "? And he said, Jacob. And he said. Thy name shall be called no more 
Jacob, but Israel : for as a prince hast thou power with God and with men, and 
hast prevailed." Gen. xxxu. 24— 28. 



16 JACOB. 

And ill my peaceful shepherds might withstand 

The mountain-chieftain and his armed band : 

In sooth I feared — *and fond precaution cast 

To make the dearest front the peril last. 

Alas for faith ! How soon, by danger driven, 

The wavering soul unclasps her hold on Heaven ! 

Could I forget, while yet my limbs confessed 

The touch that visionary hand impressed ? 

But He did not forget, — my brother felt 

Each angry purpose 'neath His influence melt. 

We met as brethren meet, who long have loved. 

And long been parted : — How my heart was moved, 

^As to my outstretched arms that rugged man, 

With all the warmth of boyish welcome, ran ; 

As thoughts of old remembrance uncongealed 

Those tears, so long — alas ! so sternly sealed : 

I blessed him there; — and there, with shame, renewed 

To BethePs God my vows of gratitude. 



" No marvel then, that to my brightening view 
Too flattering Hope her fairest pictures drew ; 



"* " And he put the handmaids and their children foremost, and Leah and her 
children after, and Rachel and Joseph hindermost." Gen. xxxiii. 2. 

^ " And Esau ran to meet him, and embraced him, and fell on his neck, and 
kissed him : and ihey wept." Gen. xxxiii. 4. 



JACOB. 17 

No marvel, that I dreamed of peace to come, 

And all the quiet and the bliss of home, — 

Days of light labour, — nights of peaceful rest, — 

All I had sought so long, — so late possessed. 

I gazed on those who soothed my toilsome youth 

With woman's patience, tenderness, and truth, — 

I gazed upon each dear and happy child, — 

And every brow returned my glance and smiled: — 

Oh God ! within my very grasp was placed 

The cup of rapture I was ne'er to taste. 

A few short months, — and I was once again 

The most unhappy of unhappy men. 

^ My daughter ! — let it pass ! — whatever thou art, 

A father's blessing on thy broken heart ; 

But how I loved thee ! — thou wert passing fair. 

With glowing cheeks, dark eyes and glossy hair. 

And a sweet smile, where once was wildly blent 

All that is beautiful and innocent, 

A picture limned in Nature's softest mood, — 

But now all blotted o'er with tears and blood. 

" Dear children ! I have learned at length to know 
The gain of grief, — the blessedness of woe; 
To feel that heavenly peace, vouchsafed alone 
When all the blandishments of Earth are gone. 



Gen. XXXIV. 



18 JACOB. 

Yet long I struggled with the chastening rod, 
Marvelling and murmuring at the ways of God, 
Who seemed to shroud his smiles in wayward gloom, 
'And blight the hopes himself had bade to bloom; 
I know Him now ! — and ah ! I know the heart. 
That thus in mercy he ordained to smart, — 
In mercy made each earthly prospect dim, 
That it might centre all its love on Him, 



" Yet 'twas a bitter lesson — and e'en now 
I feel the scars of that overwhelming blow, 
Which, sudden as the lightning from above, 
Blasted my paradise of earthly love. 
Oh Rachel ! often had we prayed that Heaven 
Would grant us children : — and the boon was given, 
The fatal boon, with bitterest sorrow rife ! 
Heaven gave the children, but removed the wife : 
Was it for this, all lovely as thou wert, 
I won the treasure of thy virgin heart ? 
For this, a menial mid thy father's herd, 
I bore the sickening pang of hope deferred ; 
Bore what youth's eager heart so hardly bears 
In patient toil for two long weeks of years.? 



' Gen. XXXV. 9 — 12. God appeared to Jacob and blessed him, immediately 
before the death of Rachel. 



JACOB. 19 

There as I gazed upon thy cold pale face, 

E'er yet I yielded thee to Earth's embrace, 

How memory called her phantoms, till I seemed 

To live again amid the scenes she dreamed ; 

With torturing accuracy rose to sight 

Each half forgotten moment of delight, — 

The smile that blessed me, when I met thee first. 

The hope in solitude and silence nursed, 

The whispered vow that made my passion known. 

The blush that told I did not love alone. 

The tones of fondness, as we wandered wide 

In lingering converse by the meadow's side. 

The bridal day — the conjugal caress. 

The o'erflowing cup of mutual happiness. 

The dear domestic charms that soothed and cheered. 

Doubled each joy, and every sorrow shared ! 

Again I gazed ! — I could not choose but hope 

That those sealed eyelids to my glance would ope ; 

I kissed her cheek, — that touch the vision sped : 

And then I felt that joy and she were dead ! 



" I sought my father's home ; — where she was not. 
It seemed a sad and solitary spot : 
Howbeit, though all its early glow was lost. 
Though torn from all it loved and valued most. 
The heart, by instinct, like the widowed vine. 
Sought some fresh object where its strings might twine : 



20 



JACOB. 



And many ofFered — but I scarce could bear 

Another's image in my breast to wear, 

Until at length to my despairing eyes 

I saw her likeness in her son arise, — 

Her first-born son ; — the eye whose light was bliss, 

The high clear brow, — the shadowy hair was his. 

The smile, like sunshine upon roses thrown, 

The deep and touching tenderness of tone, — 

I saw — I heard her ! — from their icy chain 

My chilled affections thawed to life again ; — 

Thawed like the mountain stream, and swept away 

The bounds of duty in its headlong sway. 

Yes Joseph ! madly I on thee bestowed 

All that to man — half that to God I owed : 

I felt no warmth, — no energy in prayer, 

Unless thy name was fondly blended there ; 

I looked on forms that once my love had shared. 

But owned no pleasure till thyself appeared. 

" This could not last ! — and Heaven and Earth, alike 
Wronged and insulted, raised the arm to strike. 
It boots not now, when all its issue know. 
Again to harrow up that tale of woe: — 
^The bloody vest — The words, so cutting cold 
From those who shared not in the griefs they told : 



^ " They sent the coat of many colours, and they brought it to their father 
and said, This have we found: know now whether it be thy son's coat or no.' 
Gen. XXXVII. 32. 



JACOB. ^^ 



My sons ! His brothers ! — I would not recall 

Those deeds, where sin and shame belong to all, 

Save once again to breathe my thanks to Heaven, — 

AH sinned,— all suffered,— all have been forgiven. 

Thenceforth the sleepless night and sunless day 

Wore in monotony of grief away ; 

My broken spirit, humbled in the dust, 

Mourned o'er its chastisement, but owned it just: 

Earth too withheld her fruits,— my fields grew bare. 

Till one vast desert frowned through all the year; 

I little heeded, — for the spirit's dearth 

Had left no relish for the gifts of Earth. 

^One only wish upon my bosom pressed. 

To creep into my grave, and be at rest. 

But when I saw my sons, and marked at length 

The silent droop of manhood's sinewy strength ; 

And childish cheeks, and eyes, so bright ere while. 

Part with their roses, and forget their smile, 

I felt for them, and sent them forth to buy 

From Egypt's granaries a brief supply. 

" Oh God of mercy ! while I deemed thy wratli 
Had swept the fairest blossoms from my path, 
The Angel of thy presence still was near. 
Treasured each sigh, and numbered every tear; 



« "He refused to be comforted; and he said, For 1 will go down into the 
grave unto my son mourning." Gen. xxxvii. 35. 



99 



JACOB. 



And he, my long lost son ! — thy wing had spread 
Its mighty shelter o'er his youthful head ; 
Guided by Thee, he sought the massy pile, 
Where Memphis frowns upon the subject Nile ; 
Through various scenes thy favour cheered him on, 
The bondman's fetter — and the tyrant's throne, 
And gave him Pharaoh's delegated powers, 
To save a people's life, his own, and ours. 
^° I scarcely heard the tidings ! — the slow sway 
Of grief and time had sapped my strength away ; 
But that fierce pang of mingled joy and wonder 
Full nigh had rent the slender thread asunder : 
And Avhen I woke to sense, the chill of fear 
Checked hope's bright current in its wild career ; 
Dark, baffling doubts did long and sternly strive 
With those strange words — ' Thy son is yet alive ! " 
Yet did I live to see him ! — live to hear 
Those tones of music melt upon mine ear. 
The purple robe — the sceptre's jewelled weight — 
The guard of honour, and the car of state, — 
I marked them not ; — my heart, my eye alone 
One thought, one object filled, — my son — my son ! 
^^Yea I have seen his children! — here I rest 
Nursed by their care, and by their fondness blest; 



^^ " They told him, saying ; Joseph is yet alive, and he is governor over 
all the land of Egypt. And Jacob's heart fainted, for he believed them not." 
Gen. xLv. 26. 

'' " And Israel said unto .foseph, I had not thought to see thy face : and lo, 
God hath shewed me thy seed." Gen.xi.vrii.il. 



JACOB. 23 

They made the evening of niv troubled day, 
In cloudless sunshine, smile itself away. 

" — Aye, the broad sun is setting ! — 'tis the last 
That on these eyes its parting light shall cast ; 
He will arise to give the morrow birth, 
And waken ail the myriad charms of earth ; — 
I shall not need him then ! — my soul shall gaze 
On lovelier prospects and on purer rays ! 
E'en now, through yonder clouds, the sapphire sky 
Opes, like the portal of eternity ; 
And forms of light and air around me throng, 
And far, faint cadences of angel-song 

Float through the depth of heaven !— I come — I come — 
Farewell, my children ! — 'tis my summons home — 
My Father's home! — Alas! your cheeks are pale. 
And ye have sorrowed o'er the old man's tale ; 
It ends in peace ! and, with my dying breath. 
That peace, my latest blessing, I bequeath 
To ye and your's for ever: — guard it well! — 
^2 And He of Bethel and of Peniel — 
He who, through all the varied path I trod. 
Was Jacob's Comforter and Jacob's God — 
He shall be yours : — and, oh, ye ne'er shall know 
The dark experience of my sin and woe ; 



'^ " The Angel, tliat redeemed nie from all evil, h\f^^ the lads." 

Gen. XLviu. 16. 



24 JACOB. 

Unchanging love o^er all your life shall shine, 
And crown its blessings with an end like mine !'*' 

The scene of death is closed, — and Mamre's cave 
Receives the Patriarch to his father's grave ; 
And o'er the bier, where those dear ashes slept, 
A sorrowing nation bowed its head and wept : 
They built no pyramid, with mimic woe 
To mock the dust it sepulchres below, — 
To stand, when all beside have fled the spot, 
Eternal monument of names forgot ; 
Yet Jacob's humble name shall live and shine, 
Scrolled mid the records of a hand divine ; 
No tale of wonder, Fancy's ear to soothe. 
But solemn lessons of unvarnished truth, 
Where men of every age and every clime. 
Till the Great Angel knells the death of Time, 
May learn, amid the fever-dream of life, 
Joy's transient flash, and trouble's stormy strife. 
To bid the fickle hopes of Earth depart, 
And yield to God an undivided heart. 
And prove his power, whatever lot befal, 
To guide, to comfort, and to save through all. 



LiBRftRY OF CONGRESS 

■i 



014^ 4 92 655 9 

Lately published by the same Author. 



DAVID PLAYING THE HARP 
BEFORE SAUL. 

THE SEATONIAN PRIZE POEM 
Foil 1831. 

Price Two Shillings. 



THE PLAGUE STAYED. 

THE SEATONIAN PRIZE POEM 

For 1832. 

Price 07ie Shillifig. 



ST. PAUL AT PHILIPPL 

THE SEATONIAN PRIZE POEM 
Foil 1833. 

Price Two Shillings. 



